SUPERWHO: The Apple Of Us
by FossiliZed
Summary: It's early days for Castiel and all he wants is to prove he is a good angel. But are his chances ruined when he befriends two Time Lords? How do you choose between friends and family? Between what you want and what you need? Or even between two of your best friends? Narrated by Death. [Prequel to SUPERWHOLOCK: Eye of the Storm]
1. Death Tells A Story

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Death (Wow, what a weird sentence) or any of the people and places mentioned here, except for Haley.

**A.N: **This is a prequel to my 'SUPERWHOLOCK: Eye of the Storm' fic, but can be easily read on its own. It takes place before either shows start, but eventually lead into them towards the end.

**Warnings: **Narrated by Death so that may be a little confusing. Death (uh no, I mean death of a character!) Angst. Tragedy. Use of established Doctor Who and Supernatural canon. (What I mean by this is that there are a lot of hints throughout both shows about what the past was like for the Doctor and Castiel. Doctor Who also has audio-drama, proses, novels, and comics that have become canon. Some of these show what happened in the past, so I'll be making reference to these.)

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><p><strong><span>Prologue<span>  
><strong>

Death Tells a Story

There are six planes of existence. Why? Well, I suppose six is a good number. There were meant to be eight, but as soon as God got to six, He decided to rest. Personally, I never understood why He did that – I told Him He could have gone further, but there was something about that sixth realm He liked, so He left it be. I couldn't fathom it out though, as I stood there now, on Earth. This place was nothing special. Nice to look at, maybe. But nothing special. But maybe that was because it was my regular stop, and I'd grown tired of it. The people here died so quickly and so regularly that I was always busy. I sometimes wondered why He hadn't made them live longer, like He had with the other species He'd created. I never wished for it, though. I only wondered. I never wished for anything.

My work took me to a small house in Kansas. The couple who lived there were newly weds and had just moved in five weeks before, barely settled. The place was shabby, to be honest, but the couple were planning to refurbish it so I suppose that's something. The garden around the house was nothing plain stringy grass, saturated with heavy rainfall from earlier that evening. In the distance, thunder rumbled quietly as another storm neared. I made my way, soundless, up onto the porch and paused at the door, listening. Silence. The humans within had gone to sleep early. The wife was tired, partly from unpacking, partly from the cramps that had started in her lower belly, and the husband soon joined her. After I moment, I passed through the door and entered the house.

There were unpacked boxes still stacked in the landing. A tiny path had been cleared through. At the end of the corridor, a book shelf had already been put up, and to the right, the kitchen table was set up also. At least they knew their priorities.

I slowly made my way up the stairs, my feet floating over each step. On the wall, there were pictures hung up of the couple. They were doing typical human things: guilty snapshots of simple actions. The wife washing up, flicking soap at the camera; the husband fixing a car, his face covered in oil; the two of them sitting together, kissing.

There were no parents. I had already collected them.

Upstairs, I found the couple in the bedroom, curled round each other in their sleep, perfectly content. My eyes were drawn to the mother, and the ring on my finger glowed for a moment. I had found the person I was looking for.

I never liked this part.

Her husband was snuggled in her blond curls, his hand resting on her hip, his fingers just brushing the life sleeping within. Unfortunately, that was the life I was here to collect. Her name was to be Haley, if I recall correctly. I rested my hand on the belly of the mother. Twins. At least there were. I pulled the chosen soul from the stomach, an orb of blinding white light, and the mother stirred uncomfortably in her sleep. I placed a hand on her forehead to soothe her. She had been through a lot of pain, and was to go through much more soon enough. But this was the Great Plan and I didn't like to alter it. So I took the soul away and left the house, entering the Veil with the soul by my side.

As we left the plane of the living, the soul grew into a little girl of about five earth years. No doubt, this would be how she would have looked had she lived. She had golden-brown her that danced above her shoulders and her eyes were a greenish-brown. She looked dazed and confused, so I kept a firm grasp on her tiny ghostly hand as guided her away from the living. The good thing about collecting souls as young as this, is that they didn't fight. They didn't beg for meaning, nor did they refuse the gift of peace. They just came along quietly. Sometimes, I wasn't sure if they could speak at all.

When we came to the Great Divide, the crack that separated Heaven, Hell and Purgatory from the Veil, I looked down at the soul. The younger ones usually found the jump difficult. As I looked down at her, and she looked up at me, I could tell this one was special. But given her heritage that was hardly surprising. She was the extra product of a successful experiment. She needed to be got out of the way. Unaware of my thoughts, the soul smiled up at me, which was odd, and clasped my hand tightly, almost as if _I_ was the one who needed the courage to make the jump. I didn't smile back because I felt that she hadn't earned a smile from the likes of me.

On my finger, my ring lit up for a moment, signalling that it was safe to cross the Divide. That caught the soul's attention. She stared at the ring hard, almost hopeful. I had no trouble getting her to keep up from that moment on. She seemed to think of me as some wondrous being, which I suppose I was, but I hardly ever got such praise from humans.

I lead her across the Divide, concentrating on the climb, not wanting to tumble into the Void. Many of my Reapers had done that; losing concentration for a minute and losing themselves forever. But they did their duty, and did their best to save the soul. When I passed through here, and found a lost soul wandering about the Veil, the most common reason is that the Reaper fell. Sometimes though, it was because the soul had chosen to stay behind, or that it was bound, unable to go to Heaven or Hell.

As we made the climb, the soul buzzed with excitement beside me. From her point of view, there could have been anything there. Usually it was something to make the journey easier: A golden staircase. A present. A friend. But I saw the truth. I always saw the truth. And I saw black. Just black. There was nothing for a little girl here. Nothing for no one. This was just the space between – the glue, if you like, that held the six planes of existence together. That was its only purpose. Beyond this place was the Veil, leading to Heaven or Hell. It was quite the journey.

We had successfully made it to the Veil's borders, when a quiet voice beside me said, "I'm bored."

I glanced down at the soul. She was looking back at me as though I could grant wishes. "Nothing I can do, I'm afraid." I told her.

The soul just blinked. "What's your name?" she asked me.

"I have many names." I replied. It was the truth, after all. The Angel of Death, Thanatos, the Grim Reaper – I wasn't too fond of that one – Hel the Goddess of Death, and many more. And those were just the ones of Earth culture. I never told any soul my name. To them, I was a reaper, a guide, or whatever they needed me to be, and nothing more. I didn't separate myself from my fellow reapers nor did I wish to. Yet, I also felt, with the younger souls, that if I told them my name, I would have to explain myself to them.

After a while of silence, the soul asked, "Can I call you Dada?"

Well that was...different. "No."

"Momma?"

"No."

The soul pouted. "You're mean. You were nicer before."

"Before?"

"Before." She repeated, waving a hand to gesture to her surroundings. "You used to make me laugh. There was me, and there was you. The other. You and me. Remember?"

Ah, of course! She was talking about her twin. It must have been confusing for her. There was just her and her twin in a dark, strange place, and now I was here and he wasn't, and I was taking her away. "I'm not your brother." I told her and, feeling a little trapped, I added. "My name is Death."

"My name is Haley." She said with a proud smile. _Cheeky beggar_. "Where is the other?"

I didn't look at her. "He stayed behind."

"Why?"

"Because he had to."

"Can we go back?"

There was a tug on my hand, but I kept my grip firm. "No." I said, "We can't."

The soul didn't argue and I was grateful for it.

"Will you tell me a story?"

The soul – Haley, as it now seemed appropriate to address her by – looked up at me with pleading eyes. I blinked down at her. This one was certainly different. But, I reminded myself, I was what she needed, so long as that didn't cross the border into attachment. "What kind of story would you like? I only know sad ones."

She frowned pensively, "What's 'sad'?"

Suddenly, something else caught her attention. She gasped loudly, her eyes wide, and she pointed with her tiny finger at the endless blackness before us. "Look!" she cried, jumping up and down, "Look!"

I did. I saw nothing.

I squeezed her hand, "Do you like it?"

"It's…" her face screwed up tight as she tried to think of a word. Never before had I wondered how difficult it must have been to think of words you were never taught. "Pretty." She settled on at last.

"Pretty." I repeated, looking up.

"It _so_ pretty!" Haley stopped and looked at me, "Tell me about pretty places!" she declared.

I thought for a moment. We really should be going. I had to get her to her destined place, and I had other souls to set free. But at the same time, I wanted to grant her request. It wasn't like she had much else, was it? Eventually, I said, "I suppose I know a story or two with pretty places in them."

She clasped my hand tighter, nodding her head with excitement and I found that I couldn't deny her. This had never happened before. Usually, I deliver a soul unto Heaven and go to collect the next one; no time to stop for pizza. For once in my existence, I felt like stopping. Stopping and staying. And for what? A child? I must be losing my mind. Or maybe this was _His_ doing…

Still whatever the case, I had a child who wanted to hear a story. But what story?

'Pretty places' she'd said. The prettiest - what an odd word - I knew was surely heaven. Heaven had many stories to tell, but for some reason, one in particular stuck out in my mind. Although, I wasn't sure about it's suitability. It wasn't a fairytale. There were no happy endings, polished and shining. There was no dashing princes, or beautiful princesses. This was history. And it wasn't pretty at all.

But honestly, I didn't think it would matter. Haley would be in heaven soon , I began to tell her the story anyway. And I began by saying, "I can't tell you much about Heaven – you'll find out what it's like soon enough – but it's just as well because the story I am to tell you was began in the days when Heaven was a small and, quite frankly, uninteresting place."

"Is it pretty?"

"Extremely." I replied honestly, "It was ran by the angels and by the Creator, or Allah, or Brahma, or whatever ever you wished to call Him and his followers. Not many had seen the Creator. He liked an element of mystery, you see. Anyway, this Heaven only had a few billion souls, which is tiny compared to how it is now, and none of those souls were human. Humans didn't exist back then. Neither did the Earth."

Haley sat down in front of me as I told the story. Eventually, I sat in front of her, resting my cane beside me. "There was still life: It began with Him, or me – You'll have to forgive me, I don't remember it all too well – and then came the Great Plan. One thing I can tell you about the Creator is that he is very eccentric, and this was a very elaborate plan. Honestly, I wish I remember what made me agree to such an insane idea, but I did; at least I think I did. Whatever the case, the Plan was in motion and nothing could stop it."

Haley hummed thoughtfully. "What was the plan?"

"I told you, I don't remember." I said "I don't think He does either. But soon He was creating thousands of beasts and other creatures. You see, His plan, whatever it was, involved creating the perfect race: humanity."

To this day, I don't believe it. I think He has His head stuck in the clouds!

"Anyway, I digress. This story is about none of that. This story is about one particular angel and his friendship with two Time Lords. This angel was given the name Castiel."

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><p><strong>A.N: <strong>Okay, the first chapter of the Eye of the Storm prequel. Like I said, you don't need to read that to read this and if you choose not to read one, you're not missing out on any major plot details. That being said, there are going to be some recurring characters, like my OC Haley.

**References****: **

Thanatos – Hellenic (Ancient Greece)

Hel the Goddess of Death – Scandinavia (Norse mythology)

Brahma - Hindu, 'The Creator.'

_"As old as God. Perhaps older. Neither of us can remember any more." _Death to Dean (Supernatural season 5 Episode 21 'Two Minutes to Midnight')


	2. A Leap Of Blind Faith

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the places and characters mentioned from Doctor Who or Supernatural.

**A.N: **Okay, so keeping up with the angels is really difficult. First off there's how Superatural presents them, and since this is a Supernatural fanfiction I want to stick as close to that as I can. Then there's me blindly using random angel names from one site and then looking on another and finding out that angels is completely different to what I thought it was. Anyway, I'm going to try to stick with what the Supernatural canon has stuck to, only adding a few references from other sources. (listed at the bottom) If anyone doesn't like how I've presented a certain angel at any point in this story, tough it out. It's a work of fiction. You read of your own free will.

**UPDATE: **I added a little extra bit on the end of the prologue. It was meant to be in this chapter but I felt it fit better back there.

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><p><span><strong>Two<strong>

A Leap of Blind Faith

Castiel's favourite place in Heaven was on a great and tall mountain, called the Pinnacle, which overlooked a vast landscape of stars, like swirling lights against a deep sapphire bed. It was on this mountain that Castiel first perceived the wonder that was the universe. And Castiel _worshipped _it. This was not uncommon. Angels never stopped praising the Creator and his creations, but what Castiel did went beyond mere praise – it was emotion, commitment, wonder. The likes of which had never been seen before. It was almost unnatural, as if God had made some kind of mistake. But God never makes mistakes, right?

Right?

Despite his differences, Castiel still got on well with his brothers and sisters. He tried to befriend a few of his classmates, but there was only one who would voluntarily talk to him. This angel was called Uriel. They met in fighting class. The students were told to pair up with another Fledging – that is a young angel, still in training, with their role in heaven yet to be determined. The last Fledging remaining was Uriel. To Castiel, he was a mountain; calm, strong, never bowing to anything. A little intimidating. Castiel approached him carefully, unsure whether to smile but he still did, and introduced himself to the calm, silent one. Uriel returned the introduction and the two of them duelled for that lesson. Afterwards, Castiel expected nothing more to happen, he was shocked when Uriel approached him.

"That was a good fight." was all he said.

Castiel had gained the respect of a mountain. That made him very proud indeed. The older angels didn't understand of course. At the moment, Uriel was just a shiny-looking stone in a river. Castiel wasn't noticed enough to even be a stone.

Castiel's other friend was Balthazar. Well, I suppose they were friends. You could never tell with Balthazar.

They met purely by accident, on the very same mountain were Castiel first saw the stars. Hehad been looking out with wonder at the stars below him, when he felt someone slump down next to him. He barely had time to think who it was or what he wanted, when the stranger whispered hotly into his ear.

"When I say duck, you duck. Got it?"

Castiel moved to turn round, "What are you –"

"Now!"

Something splashed in his face. He choked, scrambling to get it off him. It was sticky and made his Grace burn. He heard the other angel making a sound of alarm and then whatever was on his face was ripped off. "I said duck!" the other angel accused while Castiel rubbed his burning eyes.

"No, you said 'now.'" Castiel said, rubbing his sore face. He blinked when the other angel just stared at him, a look of surprise, like he'd found something he only just remembered he knew he was looking for. "What?"

The angel smirked, "What was your name?"

"Castiel. And you?"

"Balthazar."

Balthazar was like a ribbon. He was thin and agile, unlike any other angel Castiel had never seen, and could weave through or past any obstacle with a series of cunning choices and direction. He would make a fine warrior. Or a thief. Even his voice, smooth and lustrous, could deceive anyone.

Castiel looked at the vile in Balthazar's hand. "What is that?"

"Oh this?" Balthazar said like he'd forgotten he'd had it. He was a very dismissive fellow. Not a care in the universe. "I don't know. I found it."

"You there!"

Castiel and Balthazar leapt. Three very large, very powerful, Seraphim angels were approaching them. Castiel recognised the leader as Raguel and Ezekiel. Raguel often took the form of a griffin with duck feathers on his wings and neck. Like all Seraphim, he had six wings and wasn't afraid to show the other hand, Ezekiel had three heads; a man, a dog, and a bull. His grace was gold and bronze and he carried an air of kindness and smelt oddly like petrichor. He was large and muscular, carrying his weapons at his waist, but his hands steered clear of them. Angels took on these powerful forms depending on their status. Most Seraphim had six wings. On the other hand, Fledglings could only manifest in the basic of humanoid forms, often wingless because of how difficult it was to sustain them. Most Fledging could only support two wings at once.

Seeing the Seraphim, Balthazar hissed quietly, hiding the vile behind him. Beside him, Castiel swallowed. Raguel and his garrison were the ones who kept order in heaven. Like most Seraphim, they took no notice of the Fledgings. Unless they had broken the rules, in which case, their existence was literally on the line. Raquel looked over the two cowering Fledging and looked at Balthazar. He held out his hand, and said, "Stealing is not permitted."

Balthazar scowled and stubbornly pulled the vile from behind his back.

"He didn't steal it." Castiel said, feeling compelled to protect Balthazar despite the fact he hurt him. That was always Castiel's biggest problem. "He found it."

Raguel looked at Balthazar. "Is that true?"

Balthazar nodded, "Yes sir."

Ezekiel chuckled, "Leave them be, Raguel." He said, his voice deep and gentle, "They are young. They do not let understand."

Raguel took the vile off Balthazar and carefully gave it to Ezekiel.

Curious, Castiel asked, "What is that, anyway?"

"Never mind you." Ezekiel said. "And if you 'find' anything else that shouldn't belong, return it to our garrison."

"Yes sir." Castiel and Balthazar said at the same time and the three Seraphim turned away and left. When they disappeared off the mountain, Balthazar turned to Castiel a large grin, "Thanks, Cas." He said, "I owe you, big-time."

Since then, Balthazar stole moments from Castiel's life. In all those moments, Castiel knew Balthazar was waiting for the opportune moment to return the favour. And so, Castiel never brought it up, thinking that he'd lose his friend if he did. Generations passed, and that feeling was forgotten. Then came the day when Castiel went to his brother and begged him for his help. The day Castiel committed one of the biggest crimes of all time.

It all started with the rite of passage. All the Fledglings gathered at the Divide, on the very edge of heaven, looking down into the emptiness. Castiel stood with his classmates, guarded by his friends Uriel and Balthazar. Above them was a huge stretch of light and millions of angels gathered inside the stadium to watch this amazing event.

Castiel was twitching with nerves.

Uriel smiled reassuringly at Castiel, "You will perform well, Castiel. I have trained with you enough times to know that. Besides, hardly any angels fail the rite of passage."

"What happens to the angels who fail?"

"You about to find out." Balthazar pointed out a large six-winged angel with four heads and quickly averted his gaze before the Seraphim saw him. "Good ol' Zach about to start us off."

The rite of passage came at the end of a Fledging's classes, where they were assessed by the hierarchy and their role amongst their brothers finally decided. Tension was build up for decades. Especially for Castiel. This day was what he'd been waiting for longer than he could remember. For as long as his brothers had looked upon him, and saw something they disliked. Castiel knew. It was concealed in a look; a shift of movement; the tone of voice: Castiel was different. He would never make a warrior. And Castiel hated that.

So today, he decided, he was going to prove them wrong.

Zachariah marched along, looking down at the Fledgings. His six wings were raised high behind him like the feathers of a peacock, and his four heads, one of which was a lion, growled hungrily. Everyone knew he took on this form to frighten people. And it worked.

Zachariah paused momentarily at Castiel, and the Fledging twitched. That look again! Castiel couldn't stand it anymore! It was a long moment before he realised that Zachariah was glaring at him, his lion's head looking about ready to eat him, and Balthazar nudged him. Castiel quickly looked away. Zachariah moved on.

When the Seraphim had traced the line of angels, he stopped and turned so he could see the length of the many angels lined up. No one dared to move out of place.

Then the first angel was called up.

The stadium fell silent with anticipation.

The first Fledging was called Anael. Castiel knew her from his class. She was favoured by everyone. Strong. Agile. Beautiful. She was at the top of the class. She encouraged and inspired everyone. The perfect leader, she was. It was only natural that she was chosen first. Something about her stood out.

Anael stepped towards the edge. She turned her back to it. Reached up her arms. Dived backwards. It wasn't surprising that her performance glowed. Her graceful movements were beautiful against the blackness of the Divide. She could curl and flex her wings accurately, and when her time was up, she bowed and soared up to the stadium to join her brothers and sisters.

Another Fledging was chosen at random. Daniel. Castiel didn't know him personally, but he was in Balthazar's class. They had a rivalry of sorts. Constantly arguing and duelling with one another. Balthazar once said that he didn't respect anyone easily, but Castiel imagined that his relationship with Daniel was close enough.

After Daniel was finished, another Fledging went. And another. And another. Hurling themselves off the edge like lemmings. This was the ultimate test of skill, courage, and strength. Each one of them were doing their best to pass it. When Uriel was called, he went bravely, without question. His movements were sudden shifts, hard and swooping fighting techniques. Uriel wasn't flexible at all, but he made up for it with his strength and when his turn was over, he was welcomed amongst with open arms.

The next Fledging chosen was also from Castiel's class. He was a show-off, but highly skilled, and when he leapt off the edge, Castiel watched carefully. The angel spend out his Grace, forming wings, and lifted upward. The angel swooped up. Then he twisted in the air. His wings curled. He lost his balance. He fell.

A gasp echoed throughout the angels.

Castiel stepped forwards to see what had happened but Balthazar pulled him back in line, giving him a warning look.

The crowd of angels fell silent.

"What happened?" whispered Castiel. "Where did he go? Is he alright?"

"He fell." Balthazar said. "Past the divide. Into the void."

Castiel furrowed his brow, "I don't understand."

Balthazar looked at him. "He's dead."

"Next!" Zachariah called, pointing directly at Castiel.

Castiel was paralysed. He waited for his brother to fly back up, thinking it was a fluke. He did not.

"Next!" Zachariah called again, glaring at him.

Castiel shuffled forwards to the edge. Looking down into that vast pit made his head swim and he closed his eyes. He glanced back at Balthazar, who winked and smiled at him. _Go for it! _His eyes were saying. Castiel turned and looked straight ahead. He could feel the millions of eyes watching him. This was it. It couldn't turn back now no matter how scared he was.

He jumped.

For a daunting moment, he was being pulled into the void, too frightened to do anything to stop it. He closed his eyes and felt with a rush a thousand memories and thoughts explode in his mind. He saw how each and every angel gave him that same look. Not one of them didn't. He remembered the shushed words; he was 'peculiar' and 'would likely never amount to anything.' With these thoughts filling his mind, Castiel shook himself into action. He stretched out his Grace as far as he could, transforming them into two dazzling wings. The feathers, like blades, expanded and threw him into flight. Castiel laughed with relief. But it wasn't over. He had to show off what he had learned from a hundred years of training.

Castiel spun round in the air, briefly melting his wings back into his body and transforming into a ray of light. After a moment of free-falling, he formed his wings again and burst back up into heaven. He flew up to the stadium, where the over angels watched him in silence. Castiel prayed that was good news. He flexed his wings, and plummeted back downwards again.

Something went wrong.

His wing bent up his back. Both wings melted back into him. Castiel tumbled down into the abyss. He tried to right himself again, but he was too low down. He'd completely left heaven and was heading straight for the void. But Castiel refused to give up! He stretched out his wings, beating them as hard as he could to lift up again. Only now he didn't know where he was.

It wasn't heaven. It's wasn't the Divide. He sure hoped it wasn't the void.

Breathlessly, Castiel kept on beating his wings, trying to stay still while he looked round. He didn't recognise this place. He'd never left heaven before. When Castiel glanced around he saw stars, like the kind he watched from the mountain, twinkling little clusters, and they surrounded him. He was almost pleased. He was finally amongst the stars he watched for so long. But they all looked the same. Which way was he supposed to go? Up? Which way was up, again? Everywhere Castiel looked it was just black with the tiniest lights. How was he supposed to know which way was which?

Castiel shook himself, feeling dizzy. He picked a random direction and soared towards it. Time swirled past. It wasn't long before his energy began to fail him. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, he stopped. Eyes widened.

It was beautiful. A gigantic golden orange globe suspended in the blackness. It looked like he could land on it, but he couldn't be sure.

Castiel had to risk it. He pushed on.

Then he was falling again. Air smacked him in the face. Heat and light stabbed him. He tumbled and was met with a quick fierce impact with the ground.

When Castiel's head stopped spinning, the first things he noticed was the red grass tickling his nose. He curled away from it, his Grace trembling from the impact, and struggled to stand. His form had averted back into the humanoid shape sometime before he landed, but he still had his wings. Typical, he thought, as he propped himself up onto his knees and crawled. There was something shimmering in front of him. It looked so much like the grace of an angel that he wondered if that's what it truly was. He stretched out his hand and when his Grace touched the water, a flower bloomed in its place. Castiel climbed to his feet, tucking his wings against his back, where they promptly melted into him.

The place he was in was the most beautiful place he'd ever seen. To him, it was more beautiful than the stars, than heaven. Two burning suns. An orange sky. Mountains capped with snow. And where he stood, a mirror-still lake beside a cluster of silver trees. Below the slope, in the far distance, he could see a town of some kind. Castiel looked back at where he crashed. The grass had grown tall and small flowers were blooming. He stood still where he was, hoping his grace would recharge soon, and looked up at the sky to re-think his flight pattern. It was certainly embarrassing, but Castiel was relieved he hadn't fallen into the void.

"Wait for me!"

The voice shocked Castiel and he jumped. Without thinking, he flung himself into the forest, diving behind a tree and peeking out. He saw two boys coming from the direction of the town, up to the lake, one of them lopping behind the other. They wore black robes with a grey band across the chest and a black cloak that trailed through the wet grass behind them. When the taller boy saw his friend falling behind, he picked up his cloak, pulled it over one shoulder and then picked up his friend and carried him on his back to the lake.

The smaller boy tried to protest, "I'm fine. Really, it's nothing."

The taller didn't appear to be listening, however, "I'll kill him for this." He was saying, "He had no right to do those things to you. Those stupid grown-ups. They never do anything." He lowered the smaller boy by the lake, in the place where Castiel had landed, and began to wash the smaller boy's wounds. The skin along his leg was torn up and bleeding, and the taller boy had bruises over his arms and face. Castiel felt the sudden urge to go and help them, and had to restrain himself.

"I won't let him hurt you again, you hear me?" the taller boy said, scrubbing furiously. "Never again."

"Ow! Ow, Koschei! That's hurts!"

Koschei stopped. "Sorry. Are you okay?"

There was a pause in which the boy didn't reply and Koschei went back to cleaning his leg, more slowly and gently this time.

"I miss home." The boy said eventually, "I wish things didn't have to change."

Koschei was silent.

"They'll know we ran away." The boy continued, "They'll see our cloaks."

Koschei opened his mouth to say something, but at the same time Castiel moved. A twig snapped under his weight. The boys turned sharply to him. Castiel scrambled back, making even more noise. The boys were on their feet.

"Is that you, Torvic?" Koschei snarled. He bent down and picked up a stone off the ground, "You coward! If you want to fight me come on out and–" he lifted the stone to throw it, but the other boy grabbed his arm.

"Kos! Don't!" he said, "There's no point."

"Of course there's a point." Castiel heard the one called 'Koschei' whisper, "If I beat him in a fight, he'll leave us alone, Theta."

Theta winced.

Castiel felt it was appropriate to speak to ward off an attack. Castiel couldn't have known then that, by speaking, he'd stepped onto a completely new path; a path angels were forbidden to take.

"I'm not who you think I am." He tried to say, in Enochian, and his words fell on deaf ears.

"What was that sound?" Theta whispered.

Castiel tried again. This time, he used his telepathy to inch into the boys minds. It gave him a horrific headache, but the boys understood. They weren't unfazed by the fact that Castiel had entered their minds and that could only mean they had telepathic abilities of their own. But they weren't angels. At least, Castiel didn't think so.

Castiel was right not to. You see, when the Creator first began, He tended to use a similar template for a few of His first creations. He created the angels; mighty warriors with the ability to heal, read minds, travel through time, lead long lives, and take on multiple appearances. Then He took one angel, changed the design slightly, and made a new race He called Time Lords. Time Lords were also mighty, with the ability to heal, read minds, travel through time, lead long lives, and, yes, even change their appearance at will. They were just like angels, but they were mortal.

That was the problem. They were too similar.

Time Lords were powerful. Angels were powerful. Exposure could lead to catastrophic results. So we, Him and me, decided that they should never meet. Ever. It was forbidden to do so.

But Castiel didn't know that.

"Where are you?" Kos asked, speaking aloud rather than in his head.

Castiel shifted nervously behind the trees. _"Hiding." _

"Why?" Theta asked. He felt the nervous twitch in his mind and took the rock from his friend and put it down on the ground. "See? We won't hurt you."

What fascinating creatures they were! Castiel was awed by them. It was the first of his Father's creations, outside of angels and stars, he had ever seen. And they spoke too! Curiosity was swelling in his chest, and Castiel inched a little way forwards.

Koschei gently eased his friend behind him. "Look! A light! Is that you?"

"_It's my Grace." _He replied, stopping again. He'd heard that some of the creations were sensitive to the Grace, but if these boys were like himself, then maybe they were unaffected? Or maybe they special?

"Grace?" Theta said, peeking out from behind his friend, "You're not from this world are you? What's your species?"

"_I'm an angel of the lord."_

Koschei blinked, "Never heard of it." He said, and then added, with a proud smile, "We're Time Lords."

Castiel hummed with amusement. _"I've never heard of you either."_

"Well, technically we're not Time Lords." Theta said and Koschei nudged him, "It's true! Not until the Initiation, tomorrow."

Castiel had no idea what this 'Initiation' entitled, but he imagined that it was much like the rite of passage that had brought him to this place.

Castiel flinched. He'd failed the rite of passage! His brothers probably thought he was gone for good. Balthazar. Uriel. Did they think him a failure? He had to get back and prove to them that he wasn't. He had to prove he was a good and powerful angel like he always wanted to be.

"Hello?" Koschei called. "Where'd you go?"

"_I..."_ Castiel shrunk back into the forest, _"I have to leave."_

Theta's eyes widened and he rushed forwards, "But...who are you? Are you coming back?"

"_I'm…"_ Castiel hesitated, inching away, _"…Castiel."_

Then he was gone, stretching his wings and beating them as hard and fast as he could to lift into the air. All the boys saw was a ray of light shooting upwards, like a star returning to sky, and as Castiel lifted higher and higher, entering space, he couldn't help but look back at the curious red planet and wonder.

* * *

><p><strong>References:<strong>

Raguel – From the Judaic traditions, known as the angel of justice, fairness, harmony, and vengeance. In the Book of Enoch, Raguel is one of the seven archangels whose function is to take vengeance on the world of the luminaries who have transgressed God's laws. In this story, he's not an archangel.

Anael – the angel form of Anna Milton in this story, but this name also has multiple origins depending on where you look.

Torvic – childhood bully to the Doctor and Master. (Audio: _"The Master"_)

Initiation – a process young Time Lords, or Time Tots, go through before joining the Academy (Doctor Who, new-series 3, _"The Sound Of Drums."_)

Castiel favourite place, the Mountain – _"And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City…" _(Revelation 21: 10-27)

"_In Heaven, I have six wings and four faces, one of which is a lion." _– Zachariah to Dean and Sam (Season 5, episode 16 'Dark Side Of The Moon.')

**There's no description for the other angels, so I had to make them up. The animals I choose where inspired by their Celtic meanings:**

Ezekiel: Dog – loyal, companionship, highly regarded. Bull – strong will, uncompromising, stubborn

Raguel: Griffin – balance of good and bad, justice and nobility, vengeance and violence. Duck – honesty, resourcefulness.


End file.
